Chapter 19
December
I’m an anxious flier. I wasn’t always: It’s something I developed as I got older. As a kid I would laugh whenever we’d hit
turbulence, but now, as we’re getting ready to board a five-hour flight to Colorado, I wish I would’ve taken another Xanax
from Adrienne.
“Here’s everyone’s boarding passes,” Wes says. When he gets to me and Asher he looks at the passes again. “Oh, it looks like
me and Sloane are sitting together. Sorry, Asher.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay,” I say. “Asher is the row behind us.”
“I can switch with you,” Annica offers. “Dani can sit with Charlie. Then you can sit with Asher.”
“I don’t think we should be switching seats,” Asher warns. “Sometimes in first class they check.”
Annica gives him an odd look. “I have never seen that happen.”
“Yeah, let’s just keep these seats,” Wes agrees.
I’m too busy tapping my foot and biting the insides of my cheeks to make a comment.
We file onto the plane and Wes lets me have the window seat.
I’ve never been in first class, so I fidget in the seat and nervously flip through the menu that is in the seat pocket in front of us.
I have a date with a bottle of champagne the moment I see that flight attendant.
I take a few deep breaths with my eyes closed while Wes is turned around talking to Sam, who’s in the seat across the aisle.
“Don’t worry,” Asher says, standing over my seat, “if the plane goes down, it’ll probably be a quick death.” I open my eyes
to his evil smile and I glare back at him. “Did you tell your family you love them just in case?”
“I hate you,” I say back to him, and that’s when I see our flight attendant. “Excuse me! Hi.” The older woman smiles as she
walks over to me. “I saw on the menu that you have bottles of champagne; I need one of those, please.”
“Of course,” she says. “We serve drinks right after takeoff so I’ll bring that to you then.” I smile at her wearily and groan
to myself when she’s gone.
“Champagne won’t stop the plane from crashing,” Asher says now from in between the seats.
“Stop. Talking.”
The flight attendants come by, making sure seat belts are buckled, and begin going over safety procedures as the plane makes
its way to the runway. I bounce my leg nervously and have moved on to chewing my lip now that my cheeks are raw. When the
plane makes its last turn and the engines begin to roar I take another breath, and another. Wesley catches on and reaches
for my hand. It helps, but only a little. He lets me squeeze it as hard as I want as the plane accelerates and lifts off into
the sky.
Wes leans into me during takeoff. “Did you know flying is the safest way to travel? Even safer than driving.” I open my eyes to look over at him and away from the window beside me as the plane rocks and shakes.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He smiles at me. “And there’s a theory I read where you can imagine turbulence like the plane being in Jell-O. The
Jell-O might move, but the plane is suspended within it, so it can’t go up or down. Basically, turbulence can’t cause a plane
to fall from the sky.”
“Did you learn all of this from being a fighter pilot for Halloween?” I joke.
“Yeah, something like that.”
I try to focus on the softness in his gaze when he looks at me, or the way his one wave of dark hair separates from the rest
and dusts his forehead, or how his hand feels in mine. Perfect, like it’s meant to be there.
“If you could have dinner with one person in the world, who would it be?” I ask him as a distraction.
I hear Asher scoff from behind us. “Not this shit again,” he grumbles.
Only when we’re cruising at a high altitude and the seat belt signs go off do I let go of Wesley’s hand. The flight attendant
comes over immediately with a mini bottle of champagne for me.
“Oh,” I say. “I think I need at least two more.”
She smiles and nods.
“I didn’t know you were so nervous to fly,” Wes says, pouring my champagne into the little plastic cup for me.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
“Why don’t we put a movie on,” he suggests, flipping through the options on the TVs in front of us. We settle on some beachy
rom-com.
“I think he’s living out your dream,” I say when one of the main characters owns a beach house that he rents out.
“Forgot I told you about that,” Wes mumbles, embarrassed. “Though that’s a little small-scale. I don’t want an Airbnb; I want
an actual B and B that I can run.”
“So like Lorelai from Gilmore Girls?”
“I don’t know who that is, but sure, like her,” he says.
“So do you have any ideas for where this bed-and-breakfast will be?”
“I do.” He waits a moment before deciding to reveal more. He takes his phone out and goes into his photos. He pulls up a photo
of his family’s beach house in Nantucket. I’ve never been there but I’ve seen it on his Instagram.
“Your family’s house?” I ask, confused.
“My dad wants to sell it; we don’t use it enough. Ever since the night we talked about it I’ve been working on a business
proposal to present to my dad to turn it into a hotel.”
“Wow.” I look back up at him, and I can see in his eyes that he’s excited about this idea, and it makes me excited for him.
“That sounds perfect for you, Wes.”
“Yeah, Marissa hates the idea. She’s already looking at houses for us to move to Colorado.
” He puts his phone away and goes back to the movie.
I want to say that she’s insane considering they’ve been together for less than a year.
Bold of her to assume they’d be moving to a new state together after college.
But Wes and I have been a couple for, well, never and I would move anywhere with him if he asked.
“Well, if my opinion matters at all, I think you should go for the beach house, if that’s what you want.”
“Your opinion always matters, Sloane.”
Asher catches up to me at baggage claim after our flight and throws an arm around my shoulder. I resist the urge to shake
him off, because that is not what we practiced.
“That sounds perfect for you, Wes.” He mocks my voice in my ear with a laugh. “You really sold it, Sawyer. I could kiss you right now.” My breath catches in
my throat again at the thought of another kiss.
“I didn’t sell anything,” I say to him. “I meant what I said.”
“Even better.”
“Did I tell you I messaged Graham to—”
“No, no, no,” he cuts me off. “We are on vacation this weekend. No talk of murder.”
“That’s another thing: Doesn’t it feel wrong that we’re just putting a pause on the whole thing? We should be home stalking
Miles or Adrienne or even Marissa, because she’s still on my list.”
He stops walking and stands in front of me, whispering, “Sloane, everything will be okay for a weekend. We have proof that
Miles isn’t going after Graham until after the holidays. Just enjoy this trip.”
“What if I can’t?”
“Then use the money you saved up to buy yourself a plane ticket home. But good luck with your flight anxiety. They don’t give you free champagne in economy.” Asher pats my cheek before walking away.
The McCaverns send a driver to pick us all up from the airport. I don’t say much on the thirty-five-minute drive to their
grandparents’ house, feeling tired from the champagne and long day of travel. Just this morning I was turning in my final
draft to Renner and now I’m in Colorado. It doesn’t even feel like the same day. As we pull up to the house the group gathers
by the van windows to marvel at the home, oohing and aahing. I’m inclined to join them when we step out in front of the stunning
three-story stone structure. Surrounded by snowcapped pine trees, the home exudes a warm glow of light from the large picture
windows all around it. It’s like we stepped out of Pembroke and into a Hallmark Christmas movie.
Wesley’s mom greets us at the door, with a warm smile and eight cups of hot chocolate on a tray. She’s a petite woman with
long dark hair pulled back in a clip and deep brown eyes with laugh lines at their corners. She looks like she gives a good
hug. And she does, as she pulls each of us in for one as a greeting.
“I’m sure you’re all so tired from traveling. Wes, why don’t you show everyone to their rooms? It’s late so I’m about to head
back to the resort with your father but you guys have a good night and I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and try to keep it
down—your grandfather is already in bed.”
“Got it. Good night, Mom.” Wes gives his mom a kiss on the cheek, and I watch Asher as he turns away to walk toward the stairs.
This is his family home too, after all; he doesn’t need to be shown around.
We walk through the rest of the kitchen, which leads out to a grand living room area with plush leather couches, draped with fur blankets arranged before a tall stone fireplace.
In the corner is a Christmas tree that almost touches the top of the high ceilings.
It’s a marvel in itself and I’m wondering how they even got this thing in here, let alone decorated it.
“This is the living room,” Wes says as we walk through it. “Through that door is the dining room.” He points to the right
where there’s an opening off the kitchen. “Down that hall is my grandfather’s bedroom, the sauna, the study, and the door
to get to the back patio.” We start up the wide set of stairs that leads to the second floor. “Our rooms are all up here.
There are five rooms, so a few of us will have to double up.”
“Annica and I will stay together,” Dani says.
I scoff at how quick they are to exclude me. “What about me?”
Annica gives me a look. “Are you not staying with Asher?”
“Oh, um, yeah, I am. I forgot.”
Annica only levels a suspicious stare at me.
“His room is at the end of the hall,” Wes says. “Since he didn’t bother to wait for you to show you where it was.”
I give everyone a nod goodnight as I make my way there. Wes has his own room, Annica and Dani go off to theirs, and Charlie,
Sam, and Jake argue over who gets a room to themselves and who shares. I don’t hear the decision when I enter Asher’s room.